The Real “Me”

Posted on | November 26, 2012 | 7 Comments

Thanksgiving is my ex’s holiday with J.  Four long days without my son… four short days to go out, drink wine, and be a single woman without even thinking about the fact that I have a child.


These weekends apart are the hardest part of divorce, to me: the seconds, minutes, hours and days when your son is fully out of your sight, fully out of your grasp, and fully out of your home. For a long time I tried to pack in dates and shopping and mani/pedis and, well… wine… into the moments when J wasn’t here.  I tried to rewind time and fall back into the single me I was before I met my ex-husband; the fun, carefree, dancing machine who took shots of liquor and slammed the glasses back down with a flourish.  I thought that was what these weekends were for… regaining me.

But it took some getting used to… I couldn’t just go from mommy to “me” in a quick snap of the fingers because so much of my life is, well, him. It’s only when he’s gone that I realize how much I talk to him, how much of my life is wrapped up in the everyday teaching of a toddler.  If he’s not there, the mumbling and pointing on the grocery store aisles is a lot more creepy.  The overly loud lough and sideways glance followed by “Did you see him do that silly thing?” is a lot less convincing/engaging to my dog.  I swear I talked to J fifteen times in one hour while watching Frosty and Frosty Returns on Friday night and no, he was NOT there.

Isn’t it funny how much of our lives are tangled in theirs? How many of our words are spoken for their ears, how many of our actions are purposefully done to invoke their sweet reactions? When J isn’t here, I realize just how much of my day is lazily wound between the curls on his head, how much of my time is spent following the seconds of his life.  It’s taken me a while to realize that it’s not a bad thing.  It’s a parent thing.  It’s what we do… it’s how we plod through the monotony of the same television show on repeat, the same book read fifteen times, the same game played with the same blocks.  It’s how we teach and mold and, well, tolerate these little tyrants who have taken over our lives from the very second the white plastic wand said “PREGNANT” when it used to say “not.”

I have spent a lot of time thinking I should go out more, I should be out more… be ME more, be single more… be something more than what I’m being.  I’ve chastised myself for spending my “free” weekends sprawled out on the sofa watching DVR’d television shows and eating pizza with MY favorite toppings.  I should be doing something more… right? I should be getting out and being that “me” that I was when I was single before.

This weekend, while my son was away and I had all the time in the world to be this elusive “ME” I think I should be… I chose, instead to talk to the boy who wasn’t even there.  And you know what? I’m tired of beating myself up about that.

This is me.  This is the me irreversibly created in that moment when I first looked into his bright blue eyes.

This is the me I will be for the rest of my life.

Not just “ME” but me… “J’s Mommy.”

And you know what? I wouldn’t have it any other way.  Even on my “free” weekends.


7 Responses to “The Real “Me””

  1. Joel
    November 26th, 2012 @ 12:20 pm

    Sounds like you handled the first Thanksgiving without your son pretty well (I didn’t handle it so well). Or maybe you left out of this blog entry the tears that accompany the silence? In any event, don’t beat yourself up for sitting at home in front of the TV or going out.. do what’s best for you.

  2. lawmomma
    November 26th, 2012 @ 12:26 pm

    This was second Thanksgiving without J…. Handled much better than first. 🙂

  3. Joel
    November 26th, 2012 @ 8:34 pm

    do you ever make it up to Atlanta?

  4. Law Momma
    November 27th, 2012 @ 2:42 pm

    On occasion. Usually just for work. Wish I got up there more… there is WAY more to do there than here.

  5. Tracy Jensen May
    November 26th, 2012 @ 3:41 pm

    Love – just love, says the girl who is still trying to cram her weekends “off” full – and wondering why I’m exhausted.

  6. Law Momma
    November 26th, 2012 @ 4:28 pm

    Yes! That was my problem. I was always in a crabby mood when J got home because I’d run around doing so much junk that I was almost resentful of his return because it meant MORE to do!

  7. L. Michaels
    November 27th, 2012 @ 4:37 pm

    I am so with you on this. I miss my son, my life with my son, when I don’t have him with me. This weekend was, indeed long, and if there was some way to have him here permanently, I would. It’s like an arm is missing and I keep trying to pick things up with it. Good hearted people encourage my getting out and “doing things” and I do, but it’s not the same without the anchor of my soul. I cannot wait to see him tomorrow!

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    Spilled Milk (and Other Atrocities) by Law Momma is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
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